Roses and Knives
by shooshyeah
Summary: Desmond is trying to accept he'll never have a 'happily ever after'. A chance encounter in a gelato shop makes it more difficult.


It had taken hours of pleading for Desmond to convince Lucy to let him out during the day. Another half hour to get Rebecca to decide what she wanted him to bring back for lunch.

He had to wear his hood up pull his sleeves down over his hidden blade and tattoo, even in the heat of the day. But it was worth it in Desmond's opinion. He hadn't seen another human being that wasn't Lucy, Shaun, or Rebecca for weeks now.

Also he wanted to see what Monteriggioni looked like during the day in current times. As he walked down the stairs from the Villa Auditore Desmond had the familiar feeling of déjà vu. He'd come down those stairs what felt like a hundred times, but not as himself. It was giving him a headache, and Desmond didn't want to the ghosts to start up so he focused on the stone path and finding the place Rebecca had designated.

Rebecca had said it was a little place with homemade bread and pasta, but Desmond couldn't remember which direction she told him it was, so he walked aimlessly with his hands in his pockets. There were voices around him, speaking mostly Italian with some English and other tongues thrown in. Desmond recognized a few of the Italian words, though he hadn't a clue what they meant. Lucy had been telling him to ignore the bleeding effect as much as possible, so he was trying.

Desmond leaned against a wall and crossed his arms, looking out from under his hood at where a tailor used to be. Now it was a street vendor selling hats and purses, probably knock-offs. He had leaned in that window and bought a pouch, sold the silk and wool he'd found. Wait, no, not him. Ezio.

There was a woman with a little boy sitting at a table, spouting rapid Italian into her cell phone as the boy shoveled bite after bite of ice cream into his messy mouth. Desmond couldn't help smiling, watching the kid lap at the spoon, smearing white goop all over his little face. Desmond realized he hadn't had ice cream for over a month, and suddenly it was all he wanted.

His eyes traveled from the mother and son to the shop they sat in front of. He couldn't read the Italian sign, but the pictures of the creamy desert on the windows were self-explanatory. The guys back in the sanctuary could wait a little while for lunch. Ice cream was much more important.

As soon as he entered the little shop Desmond lowered his hood, feeling pretty sure that Abstergo wouldn't be monitoring an ice cream place.

The place was empty. Desmond was a little surprised, since it was such a hot day. There were only two booths and a table inside the shop, the short black-and-white checkered floor leading to a counter. It had a glass dome that Desmond assumed housed the ice cream.

Before he could call for someone a girl came out of the back room, wiping her hands on the white apron she wore. Desmond stood up a little straighter. She was cute. There was a light blue baseball cap with the store's name on it in white script on top of her head, a long dirty dishwater blonde ponytail sticking out of the back. When she saw Desmond she smiled, parting her thick pink lips and saying something in Italian.

It wasn't anything Desmond knew. He returned the grin sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh…English?"

Her eyebrows raised over her dark green eyes. "Yeah. You sure look like a local."

"My, uh, family is from here." Desmond took a few more steps towards the counter. "Um, I've never actually had Italian ice cream before."

Her smile remained firmly in place. She really was pretty. "It's called gelato, and it's much better than American ice cream. Why don't I make give you a sample first?"

"Really? Thanks." Desmond watched as she slid open the glass, pulling a Styrofoam cup from the stack.

"No problem. I remember the first time I had gelato." her hand dipped into the multicolored tubs of ice cream in an almost graceful way, putting a tiny scoop of each into the bowl. "It's sort of a religious experience."

Desmond laughed a little, his eyes flickering from her tanned face to her breasts. They were completely hidden under the white t-shirt and apron she wore, but they looked nice. Ample. He quickly moved back to her face when she set the 'sampler' on top of the counter for Desmond.

"How much?" he inquired, digging into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet.

She shook her head, holding up a hand with chewed down nails. "Just try it. I'm fairly confident you'll want more, so I'll charge you for that."

"Thanks." Desmond picked up the bowl and the small spoon she offered with it. He went for the original vanilla, putting a spoonful in his mouth and pausing. It had so much more substance than any other ice cream he'd ever had. His taste buds soared and a choir of angels sung songs about creamy goodness.

"Kind of what you think heaven will taste like, right?" she lowered her voice, grinning as Desmond practically moaned over the gelato.

He nodded fervently. "I want to tattoo the inside of my mouth with this taste."

She laughed, and it was extremely pleasant the way it stretched her face and crinkled her eyes. "Told you so. And that's only vanilla."

"Oh my God." mumbled the engrossed assassin, licking his lips and dipping the spoon into a pink scoop. "Do the states water everything down?"

She laughed again. "Pretty much. Tell me you've had real Italian pizza before." when Desmond shook his head she scoffed in shock. "Then at least tell me you've only been here a few days."

"About a month, actually. But I'm here for work, so I don't get out a lot."

"Well, then, you have to try some. There's a great place right down the street, and it's the only pizza place so it's easy to spot."

Desmond nodded, trying another one of the little scoops. "Jesus…What's this greenish one?"

"Pistachio. My favorite." she smiled again and leaned her hip against the counter.

"Yeah, that's the one. A large, please."

She did the endearing laugh again, opening the glass to get Desmond his large pistachio. "Sure, sure…So, um…what kind of business are you here for? I haven't heard of many people coming to Monteriggioni for work."

Desmond floundered a moment, covering his desperate attempt to think of a lie by shoving another bite of the sampler in his mouth. She looked up expectantly after a moment, so Desmond said the first thing he could think of.

"I'm a painter."

He had just recently went to Leonardo with a codex page to be deciphered. Maybe he had art on the brain.

Her eyes lit up like he had just told her he was the messiah. "Really? Me too!" She seemed to realize how excited she sounded, flushing before going on slightly quieter. "I mean, that's why I came here originally. The city is just so gorgeous. What are you painting?"

Desmond swallowed noisily. "Uh…The Villa Auditore."

"That's the first thing I did when I got here." she beamed at Desmond. "The architecture is so unique, don't you think? Plus, all of the battle scars really give it a life of its own. I feel like it still has a story to tell."

You have no idea, thought Desmond. "Yeah, me too. So…" he scrambled for a moment to think of something artist-y to say, failing and deciding to continue talking to her. He liked the way she was looking at him so enthusiastically. It seemed like back at the sanctuary nobody gave a crap what he had to say ninety percent of the time. If he didn't have a complaint or question about the animus he was expected to shut his trap and get as much work done as possible. It really got boring.

"How long have you been here?" he finished, hoping the pause hadn't been long enough for him to seem weird.

She set the large bowl of gelato on top of the counter. Desmond had almost forgotten about it. "Three years. At first I was here studying abroad, but I loved it so much I stayed. What about you? Why are just coming to Italy now?"

"Something just…drew me here, I guess." Desmond blushed a little at his own lame cover-up. "That sounds stupid, but it's true."

"Not stupid at all. It was almost the same thing for me. I was actually in Venice, but I read about Monteriggioni in a magazine and just had to come here."

Desmond took the gelato and put a huge bite in his mouth, ignoring the slight brain freeze it gave him to gulp it down so he could talk. "If you're an artist what are you doing working here?"

For the first time she looked a bit crestfallen, her omnipresent smile faltering. "Oh, well…It's a long story. The short version is I ran out of money. But my boyfriend's father owns this shop, so I work for them. It's a convenient arrangement."

Desmond felt something he hadn't felt in a while: that droop in his stomach when a girl he was becoming interested in squashed his hope with the magic word. Boyfriend. He pretended the audience in his head hadn't let out a loud 'aww' of disappointment, nodding at her story.

"That's not so bad. I bet it's fun working here…Though, I don't know how you don't gain thirty pounds." he took another big bite to emphasis his point.

Her smile came back. "It is fun working here. A lot of kids come in over the summer" There was a lull in conversation. Just a few seconds after it started getting awkward her eyes widened. "Oh, that'll be four euros even."

Desmond produced his wallet with his free hand, setting it on the counter to work out the necessary bills. She took them and put them in the cash register, crossing her arms and looking back at Desmond.

"Where have you studied?"

Enough lying, he thought. Maybe he could sneak in a bit of honesty. "Nowhere. I've just always had a…passion for art. My family descended from the Auditores, which is mainly why I wanted to come."

"Really?" her eyes widened again. "That's amazing! Do you know who?"

"Ezio Auditore." replied Desmond, suddenly fearing that he was divulging too much. Why was he still trying to impress this girl? She'd just told him she was in a relationship.

She laughed, this time louder and rather shocked. "This is so bizarre! I've been painting Ezio since I first got here. There are only two portraits of him in existence, and I've been trying to recreate them…You know, now that I think about it you look like him. What's your name?"

"De-nny. Denny M-oles."

Apparently she found nothing amiss about Desmond's hastily made up name. He mentally smacked himself on the forehead. Denny Moles? What the hell kind of name was that? Thank God Rebecca hadn't been with him. Or, God forbid, Shaun.

"It's really nice to meet you, Denny. My name's Alice Crowley."

Abruptly her hand was reaching over to shake Desmond's. He closed his large, tan hand around her paler, smaller one. They shook briefly and released, 'Denny' and Alice grinning at each other widely. Desmond because he could tell from the way she was looking at him that she was interested (boyfriend be damned), and Alice because her curiosity had been peaked by this stranger.

"You know, Denny, I get off at eight…Would you mind telling me more about your family?" she asked, looking at Desmond from the side and batting her long eyelashes. "If you wouldn't mind."

Desmond gulped down his mouthful, nodding. "I wouldn't mind at all."

"Cool. Meet me here at eight and we'll get drinks." Alice beamed again.

"Sounds like a deal." grinned Desmond, shoving his wallet back in his jeans. "See you at eight, Alice."

He was back towards the door, still eating his gelato. "Thanks, Denny."

Desmond used his elbow to open the door, walking outside and walking down the street, happily spooning the creamy desert into his mouth. He stopped, cursing and turning to walk the other way. The events of the last few minutes almost made him forget to go and get his (probably irritated by that time) cohorts their lunch.

[line]

"It's about bloody time! I was considering eating one of those wretched fitness bars Rebecca bought."

Desmond had been right about them being irritated. Or at least Shaun was. But when was Shaun not annoyed by something Desmond was doing?

Rebecca scowled at Shaun from her usual place beside the animus. "They're good for you, asshole."

"I'd rather chew on Lucy's underwear." snapped Shaun, getting a snort from Rebecca and Desmond and a reproachful look from the blonde sitting behind the computer. "Which I may resort to if Desmond doesn't bring that food over here immediately."

Desmond strode down the stairs and over to Shaun's desk, setting the bag of food down. "Alright, alright. Don't anybody break down and start eating panties."

"What took you so long, Des?" Lucy asked as Shaun dove into the bag. She sounded concerned, and Desmond couldn't help feeling a little bit bad.

"I, uh…stopped for some ice cream. Gelato, I mean." Desmond waited for Shaun's hand to move before he snatched Rebecca and Lucy's sandwiches out to give to them.

There was a short pause and then a knowing snort from the British historian. "Ah, I see what happened. Desmond was having an ogle of the gelato shop girl."

"Gelato shop girl?" question Rebecca, wiggling her eyebrows at Desmond.

He retaliated by throwing her sandwich at her a bit harder than necessary, but she caught it anyway, ever the tomboy. "There happened to be a girl working in the gelato shop when I went in. All I did was get some pistachio and walk out. The line at that place was long, that's all."

"The lines only get a little long on the weekends. It's a Wednesday." Rebecca unwrapped her lunch and took a big bite, giving Desmond a surreptitious look.

Desmond set Lucy's sandwich within reach of her hand on the desk, glowering at Rebecca and Shaun. "Can you two lay off for once? It's the first time I've seen daylight in months, cut me a break!"

"Don't push him, Rebecca." said Shaun grimly, opening a packet of mayonnaise to go on his sandwich. "He might disappear leaving a note about how he hates his life and he never wants to see any of us again."

They chuckled at him. Desmond left his own lunch, not very hungry after the gelato anyways. As he stormed over and sat on a pile of boxes near the wall he tossed a 'fuck you' over his shoulder at the pair of them. Shaun and Rebecca only stopped biting each other's heads off long enough to make fun of him. They merely laughed again, returning to what they had been doing.

A low 'come on, guys' came from Lucy, and then it was silent besides the tapping of computer keys and the chewing of ravenous assassins. Desmond leaned against the wall, moping, wondering how he would be able to get out of the sanctuary to meet Alice.


End file.
